


I Loved You First

by Centenniel



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Cults, F/M, Homophobia, M/M, Missing Persons, Original Character(s), Private Investigators, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26952367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centenniel/pseuds/Centenniel
Summary: S.Coups is a PI and not a very good one. Seungkwan is his assistant. DK and Hoshi hire him to find their friend, Jeonghan. Also supposed to ft. cop!Mingyu, workhusband!Joshua, formercultmember!Woozi, brother!Dino, FWB!Jun, hacker!Vernon, investigativejournalist!Wonwoo, helpful!The8.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Kudos: 10





	1. I Loved You First

**Author's Note:**

> S.Coups is a PI and not a very good one. Seungkwan is his assistant. DK and Hoshi hire him to find their friend, Jeonghan. Also supposed to ft. cop!Mingyu, workhusband!Joshua, formercultmember!Woozi, brother!Dino, FWB!Jun, hacker!Vernon, investigativejournalist!Wonwoo, helpful!The8.
> 
> This was originally posted as piece in my draft bin but I'd like to force myself to continue it so I'm going to pretend it wasn't. It's going to go all over the place and gets convoluted and darker (for which I will update the tags when the time comes).

Seungcheol passes out sometime between 11 PM and 1 AM. 

*

At 4 AM, according to a bleary-eye glance at his phone, he wakes up. His brain feels like a bruised peach, the blood in his veins a water park. 

He finally falls back into a fitful sleep around 7:30 AM - an estimation based on the weak rays of light seeping between his blinds. 

*

If he dreamed, he has no memory of it upon being coldly and wetly wrenched from his slumber. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Seungkwan says over the hacking coughs of Seungcheol trying to expel water from his lungs. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“You - ” Seungcheol gasps. He grabs his phone off his nightstand which had been charging next to a glass of water that his sleepy-self had put there, knowing his hungover-self would love him for it. 

The now empty glass of water. The contents of which had been poured over his defenseless face. 

“It’s 10:18 in the morning.” Seungkwan answers his own question. “On a _Tuesday_.”

“Give me a break. I was working all night,” Seungcheol says as he shakes water out of his hair. 

Seungkwan scoffs and pulls out his phone. He holds the screen toward Seungcheol. 

He recognizes his own slurry voice emanating from the tiny but power speaker. “Seungkwaaaan. I had two bottles of Jinro in the fridge but now they’re gone. I think someone stole them. When you get in tomorrow, review the security footage and see if you can identify the thieves.” 

“I don’t need to be a private investigator to figure out where the missing soju has gone,” says Seungkwan, mercifully putting his phone away. 

Seungcheol groans. “You didn’t have to waterboard me.”

“You’re right but I wanted to.” Seungkwan looks like he wants to say something else (probably nag him some more) but turns to business instead. “Your 10:30 appointment is here early, by the way. I’ll stall until then.”

“Thank you. You’re the best,” Seungcheol says to Seungkwan’s retreating back. 

He gives himself a few minutes to gather the strength to climb out of bed before padding over to his tiny bathroom. He checks his reflection in the smudgy mirror and isn’t very pleased with what he sees.

He looks fucking terrible. Has he always looked like this, he wonders before deciding he doesn’t really want to know. 

He forgoes a shower (that little stunt of Seungkwan’s counts as one, right?) and splashes cold water on his face to decrease some of the morning puffiness. While brushing his teeth, he pulls out a single bristle lodged between his incisor and canine. He really needs to get a new toothbrush. 

From muscle memory, he grabs the ibuprofen bottle on the counter, pours a few pills into his open palm and throws them into his mouth. He takes a swig of water and swallows the pills, minty foam and all. 

Back in the bedroom, he changes out of his dirty shirt into a less dirty one. His pants are probably fine. 

One of the perks of living in a room at his place of business is the short commute. The disadvantage is that his colleague knows where to find him if he drinks himself to sleep the night before, and has no regard for boundaries or his personal life.

Although, _who am I kidding_ , Seungcheol thinks as he steps over the threshold between bedroom and office. He hasn’t had a personal life for months - loyalty and grief won’t allow it. 

He still isn’t used to sitting behind the desk - his desk. But Seungkwan has insisted that standing against the wall while taking down information about a missing rebellious teenager or potentially cheating spouse or suspicious employee behavior is not reassuring and doesn’t convey ‘Please give me your money because I am a competent private investigator.’ 

No, it screams ‘I’ve only just graduated from my apprenticeship and am flying by the seat of my grubby pants’ which is honestly more true than the former. 

But Seungcheol has bills and an employee to pay so he sits behind Investigator Min’s desk - his desk - and waits. 

Beyond the front door of the office, where Seungkwan greets clients and takes phone calls, he hears chatter and laughter. He texts Seungkwan that he is ready and pretends to look over some papers. 

But the noise doesn’t subside and after a couple minutes, Seungcheol frowns. He’s about to send Seungkwan another text, strongly worded this time, when there’s a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Seungkwan enters with two young men, both of them holding steaming cups of instant coffee. “This is Kwon Soonyoung and this is Lee Seokmin.”

Seungcheol stands up and introduces himself, shaking each of their hands, repeating their names in his head to keep them straight. “Please, have a seat.” He nods at Seungkwan who closes the door softly behind him as he exits. “How can I help you?”

Neither Soonyoung nor Seokmin answer right away. Instead, they exchange expressive glances back and forth, having some kind of telepathic conversation that Seuncheol can’t even begin to decipher. 

He starts to grow dizzy from following this non-verbal tennis match. 

Finally, Seokmin speaks up. “Our friend is missing. We haven’t heard from him since Friday night.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol says slowly. “Have you gone to the police?”

“Yes, we filed a report but they don’t seem to be concerned.”

There are a number of possible legitimate reasons for that but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions without at least hearing them out. “Tell me a little about your friend and why you’re particularly concerned you haven’t heard from him.”

Soonyoung starts, “his name is Yoon Jeonghan.”

“He’s 26 years old,” Seokmin picks up. 

“Right. Jeonghanie-hyung hasn’t read any of our text messages since Friday night which is strange.”

“Hyung is the kind of person who always responds, even if it’s just a ‘kk’ or with a completely irrelevant meme.”

“He loves memes even though he doesn’t really get them. When we saw that he still hadn’t read our messages on Sunday, we got worried and called but his phone was off. So we went over to his place.”

“Either he wasn’t home or he lost his hearing because there was no way he could have ignored his doorbell once I was finished with it. On Monday, we tried calling again but his phone was still off. We called his office which we’re only supposed to do in an absolute emergency but he hadn’t shown up which is not like him at all.”

“That’s when we decided to go to the police.”

“But like I said earlier, they didn’t seem to take hyung’s disappearance seriously.”

“We called his office again today but they said he didn’t come in and wouldn’t tell us anything else.”

“So now we’re here.”

Soonyoung and Seokmin stare at Seungcheol expectantly, as if he could take their friend’s name, age, misunderstanding of memes, and use that to triangulate his location. 

“Had he been acting strange before last Friday?” Seungcheol asks for a lack of anything else to say.

“Hmmm, not really. Oh!” Soonyoung claps his hands. “Actually there is something. Hyung started going to church five or six months ago.”

“Oh!” Seokmin’s eyes widen. “Yes, that is strange.”

“Why is that strange?” Seungcheol himself doesn’t attend church but knows plenty of people who do. 

“Well because,” Soonyoung says as if it’s obvious. “Hyung is a good person but he’s not exactly the church going type. He’s something of a heathen.”

“It’s why we get along with him so well,” Seokmin adds.

Seungcheol looks at their sunny faces and can’t quite make the connection to heathenism but appearances can be deceiving. He folds his hands on the desk and says as delicately as he can, “it’s only been a day since you’ve reported him to the police. Maybe you want to wait a few more before paying a private investigator - ”

Seokmin pulls an envelope out of his pocket, making an excessive amount of noise in the process. “This is all we could scrape together on such short notice. It’s 230,000 won which we know is not much but we’ll take whatever bit of information that will afford,” he says hastily. 

“If you find him and it turns out that he just wants to be left alone, that’s fine. We just want to know he’s okay,” says Soonyoung. He bites down on his lower lip in a futile attempt to hide the way it trembles.

Damn Seungcheol’s bleeding heart. 

Damn the hangover he can feel coming despite the painkillers he took earlier. 

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Seungcheol says, hoping to end the consultation before his headache hits him with its full force. “Do you have a picture?”

“Yes, let me see if I can find an appropriate one!” Soonyoung eagerly takes out his phone.

A strange look passes across Seokmin’s face. “Hyung, what if it has something to do with work?” he postulates to Soonyoung who is furiously swiping through his phone.”Remember when we were at his apartment a few months ago?”

Seungcheol’s ears perk. “What happened at his apartment a few months ago?”

“He had left a bunch of papers on his kitchen table - when he _knew_ we were coming over - and then yelled at us when we looked at them. They were spreadsheets with a bunch of numbers so it’s not like we understood what they meant.”

“Yeah, hyung totally overreacted,” says Soonyoung. “Okay, here is a picture where you can see his face.” He hands his phone to Seungcheol.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he looks at the screen but it isn’t a profound sense that the cosmos is fucking with him. Like the universe has decided to pluck him, specifically Choi Seuncheol of Daegu, South Korea, from reality and drop him into a parallel universe to see how he would react.

Because Seungcheol knows him. He knows Yoon Jeonghan. 

Well, sort of.

“This is your missing friend?” Seungcheol finally asks after way too much silence. 

“Yeah, handsome devil, isn’t he?” Soonyoung says proudly. 

It doesn’t occur to Seungcheol until that moment that he could probably find a way to backtrack and not take their case. Tell Soonyoung and Seokmin sorry but you’ll have to find someone else who is willing to start a missing persons investigation for almost free or wait for the police to finally start caring. Soonyoung will probably actually cry and damn it, Seungcheol’s bleeding heart!

“Email Seungkwan this picture before you leave please,” he says, handing Soonyoung’s phone back to him. He flips to a fresh page in his notebook and picks up his pen. “Tell me everything you know about Yoon Jeonghan.”

  
  


**Gwangju**

  
  


Seungcheol climbs the stairs to the billiards hall with a strange fluttering in his stomach - hopefully nerves and not the bus station hot dog he ate earlier. He supposes he’ll find out soon enough and concentrates on spotting a gray sweater and a black hat. A gray sweater and a black hat - that’s how Seungcheol will know it’s him. 

He has seen at least three guys matching that very vague description between the bar he had been pounding beers at and his current location. But none of them had even glanced at his yellow and navy sweatshirt so he figures they aren’t username 1004. 

He stands outside the frosted door of the hall and from the other side, he hears the gruff voices of men and the clack of billiards bouncing off each other. 

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ he thinks. He needs to leave. Delete the app from his phone, go to any of the bars in the area, find a woman willing to leave with him, indulge in an ultimately forgettable but enjoyable distraction. There’s still - 

“Hey.”

Seungcheol spins around, nearly losing his balance, and grabs at the wall to stop from falling on his ass. 

On the landing half of a floor below is a young man in a gray sweatshirt and black baseball cap. The fluttering intensifies and Seungcheol thinks he might float away from the force of it. 

There is no way he’s here for Seungcheol. The stranger is beautiful beyond his wildest expectations and the universe isn’t normally so kind to him. No, usually it likes to really fuck him over but maybe the powers that be are taking pity on his pathetic self. 

However, the universe can only do so much to play matchmaker and the longer Seungcheol stands there with his mouth agog, the more uncomfortable the stranger seems to become and he slowly turns to leave. If Seungcheol doesn’t act now, it will never happen and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the courage to try again. He takes a deep breath. “Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”

*******

  
  


Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Seokmin do not know where Jeonghan is originally from, only that he is estranged from his family. After graduating from university, he lived with Soonyoung and Seokmin until a year ago when he got his own place. They see each other about once a month but text nearly everyday. 

They have his direct number at work but don’t know exactly what he does, just that his eyes are going bad from staring at a screen all day and ties are mandatory.

They had mentioned his sudden interest in church but have never attended any of the functions with him because, quote, it seemed lame as fuck, unquote. 

What they do know: Yoon Jeonghan is very good at skiing, his favorite Disney movie is Moana, he likes mixing soju and beer, the longest he’s ever karaoked is 6 hours straight, his favorite gif is the one of the cat wiggling its butt, and he’s surprisingly tightlipped about his love life.

His highs are Mt. Everest and lows are the Marianas Trench. He is stubborn almost to a fault but kind and caring in his own way.

They know all the important things.

Seungcheol is really going to earn that 230,000 won. 

“Found Yoon Jeonghan’s LinkedIn page,” Seungkwan informs him from the doorway between the office and the waiting area. “It says he’s an accountant for some big firm in Yongsan called PLDS. He started there a few years ago. I’ll text you the address.”

“You’re the best,” says Seungcheol, patting his pocket for his wallet. “Could you put together a package addressed to Yoon Jeonghan at the firm’s address? I’ll be making a delivery this afternoon.”

“Why not just call the firm and save yourself the trouble?”

“Soonyoung and Seokmin already tried but couldn't get any answers. I think I’ll have better luck if I go there in person and use my natural charm.”

Seungkwan’s eyes narrow into a squint. “Your what?”

Seungcheol ignores him, lifting up stacks of file folders. 

“What are you looking for?” Seungkwan asks. 

“My wallet.” Seungcheol pats his pockets again just in case it magically appeared. “I’m meeting up with Mingyu for lunch. I’m hoping to take the case off the polices’ hands.”

“So you did have a plan after all.” Seungkwan sounds relieved. “I was worried when you agreed to a 230,000 won retainer for a missing person’s case.”

“Of course I have a plan.” Seungcheol doesn’t feel the need to mention that he hadn’t thought of the plan until 30 minutes ago. 

“Well, it’s in your room by your bed. I saw it there this morning.”

“Seriously, you are a lifesaver!” Seungcheol retrieves his wallet from its hiding spot. “I should be back in an hour.”

He gets to the restaurant right before a line begins to form, snagging a table near the back. 20 minutes later he’s still waiting and nervously eyeing the cluster of customers at the door. Luckily the auntie who owned the restaurant likes him (he had helped track down a rogue employee who had been skimming from the register) so she tells him not to worry.

It’s another 15 minutes before a pile of long limbs and apologetic puppy eyes plops into the seat across from him. 

“Sorry hyung,” says Mingyu. “I had some trouble getting away from work. We’ve been swamped lately.”

“Well.” It’s the perfect opening. “Then you’ll be glad to hear that I am not that busy and my services are available.”

Mingyu grins. “Yeah, for a price. I should have known.” 

Seungcheol flags down the server and orders two soondae stews. “It’s not just that. I wanted to see you as well. I haven’t seen you since you made Sargeant. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks,” says Mingyu, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “How are things at the agency with you and Seungkwan?”

“Good.” It isn’t a lie but strangely feels like one. “I’m working on tracking down a missing person, Yoon Jeonghan. His friends said they reported him missing to your station yesterday.”

Mingyu hums. “Name doesn’t ring any bells but I can check when I get back. If the Captain approves outsourcing the case, I’ll let you know.”

The soondae stews arrive - the beauty of a limited menu is exceptionally fast service. They eat without speaking and fight over the last piece of kimchi until the server brings them more.

Seungcheol waits until their spoons are scraping the bottom of their bowls to ask, “any news on the other case?”

“Oh.” Mingyu sets down his spoon and wipes at the corner of his lips. He says, “no. We followed up on a few leads but they were dead ends. No witnesses have come forward so...”

What he doesn’t say: a lot of people may have wanted your boss dead but it might be time you accept this was a mugging gone wrong - a random and pointless death.

Seungcheol tamps down the anger he feels swirling just beneath the surface, the urge to say he hopes the police will be just as blase if they find his body in a dark alley. He needs Mingyu’s help, now and in the future. Besides, it isn’t his fault. 

“Well, if you do discover anything new, you know where to find me.” Seungcheol sets down enough cash for both of their meals and stands, pushing back his chair a tad aggressively.

Mingyu winces at the sound. “Sure thing, hyung,” he says in a tiny voice, avoiding eye contact.

Damn it, he made Mingyu feel bad. He holds out his hand. “Sargeant.”

Mingyu eagerly scrambles to his feet and shakes it with vigor. “Hyung!”

‘Look at us,’ Seungcheol thinks as Mingyu nearly rips his arm out of its socket. ‘Who could have predicted this?’

  
  


**Gwangju**

  
  


Seungcheol is not a sore loser. Usually. He’s not afraid to admit he loses at this game often. 

Granted, it’s mostly against Wonwoo who is actually decent at four-ball billiards so he doesn’t mind losing to his friend. But even Seungcheol can tell that 1004 is bad at four-ball billiards. 

So how, he thinks as he pulls out his credit card to pay for their time on the table because that had been the wager, did he end up so badly defeated?

1004 must have cheated. He’d been the one keeping score, after all. That cheating cheater with his stupid sparkly eyes and annoying sexy smirk. Seungcheol is still fuming when he shoves his credit card back into his wallet.

He feels a light touch on his forearm and every bit of irritation melts away when he looks up and sees 1004 smiling hesitantly at him. 

“Do you want to get a drink?” he asks. 

Seungcheol nods before his pride can turn down the offer. 

He follows 1004 out of the billiards hall, down the stairs, into the street. They walk side by side but not so close that they are touching. The man leads him up three flights of stairs, into a bar for which they are both definitely underdressed. 

They’re shown to a small table made of concrete and chairs with hairpin legs by a young woman who looks more like an artist than a server. “Do you need a few minutes to decide what you’d like?”

“Could I get a glass of Glenfiddich 12 year,” 1004 asks without looking at the menu. “On the rocks, please.”

“I’ll have the same,” Seungcheol says because he doesn’t know anything about nice alcohol.

“So,” 1004 says after the server has walked away. “What brings you to Gwangju?”

It’s an innocuous enough question but Seungcheol hesitates. Short answer is that he wanted to go somewhere he’s never been before.

Long answer...he imagines telling 1004, _I found out a few weeks ago that my girlfriend of five years had been having a long term affair with an assistant professor. An affair that started during my mandatory military service and didn’t end once I returned. I needed to get out of my head and maybe gain some perspective. Maybe then I’ll be able to understand why…_

“I heard the food here is good,” he finally says. 

“Oh yeah?” 1004 rests his chin on a propped hand. “What have you had so far?”

“Well. I ate a hot dog at the Gwangju bus terminal which was fine. And some puffed rice snacks with beers before the billiards hall.”

“Sounds like you’re really sampling the local delicacies.” 1004’s eyes sparkle from the darkness under his cap. 

The server brings their drinks and a small ceramic bowl of wasabi peas. Seungcheol eyes the snacks warily and takes a sip of his drink. It’s good, he thinks, although he doesn’t have much of a palate for whiskey.

“So,” says 1004 after a minute of silence. “We’re just going to pretend you didn’t say anything to me when we first met? Does that line actually work on people?”

Seungcheol takes another sip of his drink to cover his embarrassment. He hadn’t really thought out his opening line in advance, figuring he would know what to say in the moment. And no, it usually doesn’t work. “Well, you’re still here so I’m going to count it as a success.”

He flicks his tongue over his bottom lip to lap up a stray drop of whiskey and notices 1004’s gaze follow. And maybe it’s because all he’s had to eat is a hot dog and puffed rice but he thinks he’s feeling the whiskey and it’s dampening effects on his inhibitions.

He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward. 1004 subtly mirrors him, tipping the lid of his cap down. “Where are you staying tonight?” 


	2. Chapter 2

Seungcheol arrives at the PLDS Yongsan branch around mid-afternoon and feels self-consciously shabby in his windbreaker, skinny jeans, and bike helmet. Although he really shouldn’t, he tells himself. He’s gotten a few curious glances but bike couriers must not be uncommon considering that the building’s security desk hadn’t even checked his ID, just asked him to sign-in on a guest list and he’d shamelessly written down ‘Kim Woobin.’

In the elevator ride to the 45th floor, as instructed by security, he’s suddenly struck with a mild panic. 

If Seokmin and Soonyoung are wrong, then 1004 - no, Yoon Jeonghan - will come out to sign for an unexpected package (fuck, he doesn’t even know what Seungkwan put in the padded envelope, hopefully nothing embarrassing) looking all professional and shit while Seungcheol can’t remember the last time he washed his jacket.

At least the jeans he put on makes his ass look good. Seungkwan had said as much before he left. He removes his bike helmet and sort of succeeds at fixing his hair.

He steps out of the elevator on 45 and waits for the receptionist to buzz him through a set of glass doors. “Hi, I have a delivery for Yoon Jeonghan,” he tells her.

She holds out a hand and says, “Thank you. I can sign for it.”

Seungcheol expects this.

“Actually, only the intended recipient can sign and we’ll need to verify their identity - company policy.” He smiles apologetically. 

A look of irritation flashes across the receptionist’s face before she gives him a polite nod. “Of course. Let me see if Jeonghan-ssi is available.” She picks up the desk phone and presses a few buttons on what looks like a switchboard from the NASA control room, giving him a pointed smile and glancing somewhere past him.

Seungcheol turns his head and spots what appears to be the most uncomfortable leather couch in the world. He looks back at the receptionist and points over his shoulder. “I’ll just be over there.”

“That would be wonderful,” she says. “Oh, hello, Jonghyun-ssi. Is Jeonghan-ssi available?” She gestures to the couch with her free hand and Seungcheol reluctantly walks away.

The couch is softer than it looks, the seat dipping under his weight. He sets his bike helmet next to him and watches the receptionist frown a little, say something else, then hang up. She tells him, “someone will be with you in a minute.”

Seungcheol expects to be kept waiting for a while but true to the receptionist’s word, someone approaches him before he’s had a chance to finish his text to Seungkwan about the contents of the package he put together. It’s not Jeonghan but Seungcheol isn’t supposed to know that so he puts away his phone and stands, taking the padded envelope and fake invoice out of his messenger bag. “Yoon Jeonghan-ssi?”

“No, Kim Jonghyun,” the young man says. “I’m his colleague. Jeonghan is not in the office today but I can sign and make sure he gets it.”

Seungcheol shakes his head, putting away the package and invoice. “Sorry, only the intended recipient can sign. Nothing personal; I’m sure you’re very trustworthy but it’s company policy.” He taps his chin in mock-thought. “Do you happen to know when he’ll be back? We can redeliver if it’s within five business days.”

“Er, not entirely certain. He’s away on a family emergency and we didn’t want to pry. Sorry.” Jonghyun rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

Seungcheol decides this is not the PLDS employee Soonyoung and Seokmin spoke to over the phone if he’s this forthcoming with a bike courier. It was mostly the receptionist who’s watching them with suspicion - completely warranted.

“Well, thank you for your help. We will try again next week.”

He’s just pushed his way back through the glass doors to the elevator bank when he hears the receptionist call out, “excuse me!”

Cursing silently, he looks over his shoulder. She’s pointing towards the couch where he left his helmet. “Oh, thank you,” he says, relieved and a little embarrassed. He retrieves it and gives her a nod of gratitude before hurrying to the elevators.

As soon as he’s in the building lobby, he calls Seungkwan. “Hey.”

“Hi. Are you calling me from jail because you were arrested for impersonating a bike courier?”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “You know I’m not. Anyways, I was able to find out from one of Yoon Jeonghan’s coworkers that he’s supposedly away on a family emergency.”

“Family emergency? According to your notes, Soonyoung and Seokmin said that he's estranged from his family.” 

“That they did.” He spins through the revolving doors and puts on his sunglasses. The day is unusually warm and sunny for mid-October. 

“You think his coworker could have been mistaken? Or Yoon Jeonghan lied to them?”

“Either is possible but maybe there really was a family emergency. Maybe his father is dying and wants to reconcile before passing. YOLO.”

Seungcheol and Investigator Min have had a few similar cases: mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers who disowned their sons, daughters, siblings only to realize life is fleeting and whatever they disagreed upon seems so insignificant in comparison.

“That’s...that’s not how you use...you know what, nevermind.” Seungkwan sighs. 

“I won’t be back until really late so take off whenever. I’m on my way to meet with that woman who thinks her sister-in-law is stealing from her mother-in-law and then I’ll be posted outside Club Rhombus to see if I can catch the banker. The cover charge is half-off on Tuesdays.”

“Don’t forget to eat something, hyung,” Seungkwan nags. “And take your vitamins.”

“I will, I will.” Seungcheol tries to sound annoyed but honestly, it’s nice to have someone worry about him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***Gwangju***

Seungcheol did not think he and 1004 would end up like this: in his motel room, sitting side by side against the headboard of the bed, fully clothed, watching Spongebob. Well, 1004 is watching Spongebob. Seungcheol pretends to while being very aware that he can feel the vibration of 1004’s laughter shoot up and down his arm. 

“Hey,” 1004 says softly and Seungcheol jerks, smacking his elbow against the headboard. “I was just going to tell you to relax. I can feel how tense you are. Don’t worry.” He scoots a few inches from Seungcheol, leaving his outer leg flush with the edge of the mattress. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Seungcheol opens his mouth and then closes it, opens it again and hesitates, not wanting to drive 1004 further away. “I know that.” 

It sounds a lot whiner than he intended so he tries again. 

“I’m not worried. I’m pretty strong.” 

Okay, now he's just coming across as arrogant.

1004 raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He hums and places a hand on Seungcheol’s upper arm, letting it rest there.

Seungcheol, for his part, manages to be cool and not melt into a puddle of nerves. “You’re welcome to try if you don’t believe me,” he says and curls his hand into a fist, flexing his bicep discreetly. 

1004 jolts and quickly pulls his hand away, turning his attention back to the TV. “I’ll take your word for it,” he mutters. The high points on his cheekbones turn pink. 

Seungcheol is pretty sure his ears are blushing as well but they’re hidden under that damn hat he’s yet to take off, like he’s planning to run out at any moment. And he won’t stop 1004 if he wants to leave but desperately hopes he won’t, even if it’s just to watch cartoons together all night. “Hey.”

“Hmm?” 1004 intones, eyes tracking Squidward.

“Can I kiss you?”

***

Mingyu’s expression morphs from amused to worried. “Hyung, what happened? Where are your shoes?”

Seungcheol touches his busted lip and winces. “Smacked my face against the car door,” he says shortly. 

He doesn’t feel like explaining that earlier in the day, he had met with a potential client in her home and when her husband arrived from work earlier than expected, he had mistaken Seungcheol for his wife’s much younger lover. He only managed to escape by tuck-and-rolling off their second floor balcony in a pair of guest slippers.

Mingyu obviously doesn’t believe him but doesn’t challenge him either. “Well, you’re free to go. Come on.”

Seungcheol waves goodbye to the drunk and disorderlies in the cell and makes his way over to the barred door Mingyu is holding open. He’s handed his phone and keys. “Thanks for working to get me out so quick.”

“Yeah, well, the CCTV footage showed that you didn’t throw the first punch. And the woman you helped is the niece of a police chief and she insisted you be released immediately,” Mingyu explains while walking him through the station bullpen.

Outside, it’s only a few degrees colder than it had been during the day. The yellow and red glow of a McDonald’s beckons him from a distance. “I’m feeling kind of hungry. What about you? Have you had dinner yet?”

Mingyu stares at him. “Hyung, it’s three in the morning.”

“Is it? Shit.” Seungkwan’s going to kill him.

“I worry about you sometimes,” Mingyu says with a shake of his head. He hands Seungcheol a manila envelope. “It’s a standard outsourcing contract. I talked to my colleague Kihyun in Missing Persons and they’re okay with you looking into the case. I guess it would save them the trouble of sending someone over to do a welfare check. The property manager is expecting you tomorrow morning.”

Seungcheol doesn’t mention the conversation with Kim Jonghyun and the possibility that Yoon Jeonghan has just dropped off to deal with a family emergency. Not if they’re going to pay him for such an easy case. “Thanks Mingyu. I owe you one.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “You really don’t. Just do me a favor and take better care of yourself.”

“I will,” Seungcheol says with a stab of guilt. “I promise.”

***Gwangju***

1004 blinks a few times before slowly turning his head to look at him. He’s quiet for a while (too long, in Seungcheol’s nervous opinion) before saying, “only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” Seungcheol says, stubbornly ignoring the way his heart rate shoots up.

“Okay.” 1004 nods and finally, finally removes his hat. A bundle of long, auburn hair unravels and tumbles to the top of his shoulders. 

Seungcheol inhales sharply. He doesn’t think he could have been more surprised to find 1004 completely bald - in fact, he had assumed the hat had been hiding a crew cut; the one all men serving their mandatory military services must endure. “Oh,” he breathes. 

“Do you still want to kiss me?” 1004 asks. 

There’s a challenge in his intonation and tilt of his head and if Choi Seungcheol had been a less competitive man...well, he’d be someone else entirely. 

He slides a hand into 1004’s hair and gently tugs him forward. “Yeah, I do,” he says before pressing their mouths together bruisingly.

There’s no going back after this. He can sleep with a hundred more woman but he’ll always know that he once kissed a man like 1004 and he’s fucking lying to himself if Seungcheol thinks he won’t remember how the press of the other man’s lips feel, the heady scent of his cologne, the sound of pleasant surprise he makes deep in his throat.

***

The property manager seems genuinely worried about Jeonghan when she lets Seungcheol into his apartment. “He’s a good tenant,” she tells him. “Quiet and always paid his rent on time.”

The place is a studio; clean upon first glance although the bed is not made. There’s a wardrobe against one wall and a door that he assumes leads to the bathroom. “Were you able to find out the last time he entered the building?”

“Last Friday around 6 PM,” she says. “Each unit has its own code that registers when they use their card to enter the first floor doors. We don’t actively track it but keep the records, I guess for instances like this.”

Seungcheol opens the cabinet by the entrance. There’s an umbrella on the bottom shelf. Work shoes and sneakers line the second and third. “There’s no other way for someone to gain entrance to the building?”

“Well.” She hesitates. “There’s a service entrance for the basement but you need a key and it’s monitored by CCTV. I can ask security to give you the tapes if you’d like.”

“I’d appreciate it,” he says, closing the cabinet doors. 

She nods. “If you don’t need me for anything else, there are a few things I need to attend to.”

“I’ll see myself out.”

The property manager leaves and Seungcheol begins by examining the contents of the wardrobe. Collared shirts and slacks on hangers, and ties on hooks; typical office worker wear. He hesitates before opening the drawers - he normally has no problem going through people’s things (comes with the job) but he can’t help but remember the agreements he made with 1004 all those years ago.

_ No names. No personal questions. _

Well the first one’s already fucked although through no fault of Seungcheol’s. 

And he’s no longer dealing with 1004 but with Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Seokmin who are paying him to find their friend, Yoon Jeonghan. 

Squaring his shoulders, he digs through the drawers but finds nothing amid rolled socks and underwear. No secret cash, no condoms. Either he’s not having sex at all or is having it so frequently that he’s always out of stock.

He moves on to Yoon Jeonghan’s nightstand. There’s a small pile of books: a copy of Me Before You, an earmarked CPA test prep book, and a bible. Soonyoung and Seokmin had mentioned their friend’s sudden and unexpected interest in church. A bible on the nightstand would indicate a serious interest in practicing. 

Seungcheol absently picks up the bible and flips open the cover. He thumbs through the pages and gets caught about partway through. “What the fuck.”

The second half of the bible has been hollowed out albeit haphazardly. Inside the hidden compartment is a small piece of paper, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He carefully takes it out and sets the desecrated bible on Yoon Jeonghan’s bed. 

It’s a receipt for something; that much he can tell. But where the vendor name should be is just a torn edge. The only thing he can discern is the paid amount (45,000 won), a box of some sort (402), and a code (382645). 

He snaps a photo and sends it with a message to Seungkwan.

_ Found this in YJHs place _

_ What do you think it is _

Sighing, he puts his phone away and looks around the modest studio. 

_ Who are you, Yoon Jeonghan? _


End file.
